What was it with Kate and order? It was like a god she worshipped. Why did everything have to be perfect?
Lucas opened the Mirror and shook his head. It did tickle him to watch confusion shadow her face when he cooked. He’d thought everyone dumped the whole package of bacon into the frying pan until he’d seen the way she’d done it, one tedious strip at a time, all neat and tidy.
The woman kept a record of her workouts, for crying out loud. He’d looked at the clipboard one day after she’d exercised, made notes, and disappeared into the shower. She marked the miles, the speed, the incline, and the time she’d walked, down to the minute.
But as much as her librarian ways amused him, he wondered what had her so tightly wound. She lived as if life could be boiled down to one big list. As if by keeping everything in order, somehow she could control things.
You’d think she’d have learned by now that some things were beyond control. If Lucas hadn’t known that before Emily’s death, he knew it now.
“Hey, Luc.” Jamie stepped onto the covered deck and sat in the Adirondack chair beside him. Her lanky legs, already summer brown, extended from a frayed pair of denim shorts.
“Hey, sis. How’s summer going?” He gave up on the paper, folding it and dropping it onto the deck.
“Okay, I guess.” Jamie twirled a purple flower in her fingers. “Mom and Kate went for a walk?”
He closed his eyes and let his weight sag into the chair. “Yep.”
“The gazebo looks good there,” Jamie said.
Ethan had helped Lucas move the piece to his backyard over-looking the beach. It was as though it had been built for the spot.
For a while they sat in silence, listening to the sound of the water licking the shoreline. Lucas wondered what Kate was saying to his mom. More important, he wondered what his mom was saying to Kate. What if Kate figured out his parents were fine? He felt bad she was spending so much time on a fictional problem, but he’d had to use some excuse. He could hardly have told her the real reason he’d married her.
“How do you know when you’re in love?” Jamie’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Lucas looked at his sister, only fourteen, still in braces, and wanted to tell her she shouldn’t be thinking about love at her age. But he’d been fourteen once, although it seemed a lifetime ago. Emotions had felt bigger than life then.
“Who is he?”
Jamie wrapped the flower’s threadlike stem around her index finger. “His name is Aaron Brinkley, and he goes to my school. I’ve liked him forever, but he was going out with a girl named Liz.” She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t like her much?”
“She’s a snot. I don’t know what he saw in her. But he’s been at the beach all week, and Meredith said he broke up with Liz. He asked me to play volleyball today.”
Lucas propped his ankle on his knee and clasped his hands on his stomach. “Did you?”
Jamie flicked sand off her shorts. “Yeah, but I beat him.”
Lucas laughed. Jamie was a starter on her team and the best player, if he did say so.
Jamie slugged his arm, and the flower went flying. “It’s not funny. I think he’s mad at me.”
Lucas stifled the laugh. “What makes you say that?”
“He didn’t talk to me after that.” She wrinkled her little nose.
“Were his friends around?”
Jamie’s face fell. “I should have let him win.” She crossed her arms and chewed on her lip.
“He’ll get over it. Trust me.”
“What do I say when I see him tomorrow? I really like him.”
“You’re worried about finding something to say?”
She shrugged. “I get tongue-tied with him. I’m afraid I’ll say something dumb.”
“Be yourself. If he likes you, he’ll like you for who you are.”
She rolled her eyes. “You sound like Mom.”
Maybe he wasn’t helping. But given his own love life, he wasn’t sure he was qualified to give advice. “What are his interests? People like to talk about themselves. Especially teenage boys.”
Her face brightened. “He likes the Red Sox, and I know he’s into sailing, so we can talk about that. What else?”
“What do you mean?”
“Duh. I mean, do you have any other advice?”
If only he could condense everything he’d learned about relationships and pass it like a baton. Unfortunately, life didn’t work that way. “Just don’t be afraid to let him know you like him. He asked you to play volleyball, so it sounds like he’s interested. Guys have a lot of pressure to initiate things. It’ll make it easier if he knows he’s not going to get rejected.”
“You think he’s nervous too?”
Lucas clasped his hands behind his head. “Trust me, the nerves go both ways.”
Jamie was gone by the time Kate returned. The back door fell closed with a smack, and she cornered him in the living room.
“What is the deal with your mom?” Her damp bangs clung to her forehead, and her ponytail swung like a pendulum.
Lucas folded the paper again and set it on the table. “What do you mean?”
“I mean she can’t talk to me for two minutes without getting in a dig. There’s all this subtext going on, and I think it’s more than that she missed our wedding. You want to fill me in?”
It was only fair. He should have already. “It’s not you. There’s some history you don’t know about.” Maybe her mom had told her the story, and she didn’t realize who Susan was. “Your mom was my mom’s best friend years ago. They went to high school together. Did your mom ever talk about that?”
Kate shook her head. “What happened?”
It was all ancient history, but to his mom it was the unpardonable sin. A woman scorned, and all that, he supposed. “When my mom and dad were engaged, your mom was supposed to be her maid of honor, only—” How to put it delicately?
“What?”
He sighed. “I guess your mom had a thing for my dad. Something happened the week before the wedding. I don’t know the details, but your mom slept with my dad. My mom cut her out of the wedding and refused to talk to her again.”
Kate’s eyes widened slowly, her jaw following suit. Then she pressed her lips together and jabbed her hands onto her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think it mattered.”
“It matters to your mom.” Kate walked to the window and turned. “How am I supposed to help your parents when your mom hates me?”
“She doesn’t hate you. She doesn’t even know you.”
“She’ll never trust me now.”
He supposed Kate was right, but he’d been hoping his mom would come around. It wasn’t Kate’s fault, and it had been more than thirty years ago. “I’m sorry. I should have told you, but I was hoping she’d get to know you and realize you’re not to blame.”
That seemed to quench the fire in her eyes. “She probably thinks I’m just like my mom. Not only am I guilty by association, she’s probably worried I’ll betray you just like my mom did her. She’s worried I’ll hurt her son.”
Funny, he was worried about the same thing. But he hadn’t considered his mom might be worried for him. “Being a therapist must come in handy.”
Kate gave him a wry smile. “I have a feeling I’m going to need all the expertise I can get.”
Two days later, Lucas was remembering his conversation with Kate when a knock sounded on his shop door.
Ethan, his friend and his best salesperson, opened the door. Lucas turned off the sander.
“There’s a lady here who’s interested in a few custom pieces.” Ethan pushed up his wire glasses with his middle finger.
Lucas set the sander on the plywood table. “Be right there.”
He removed his goggles and brushed the sawdust from his skin and clothing before entering the showroom. He found Ethan and the customer by his collection of Shaker-style bedroom furniture. The woman had auburn hair
that fell in waves past bare, slender shoulders.
“Miss Delaney, this is the owner, Lucas Wright. Lucas, this is Sydney Delaney. She recently purchased a home on Madaket Harbor.”
Lucas shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you. That’s a nice area.”
Though she was tall enough to intimidate most men, her movements were fluid. “I love your work.” Her fingers caressed the footboard of a queen-sized sleigh bed made of maple and finished with a caramel stain.
“Thanks. Ethan said you’re interested in some custom work.”
Another couple entered the store, and Ethan excused himself.
“I love the Shaker style. It’s simple but elegant.”
It was Lucas’s favorite as well. There was something about the old-fashioned simplicity of the lines that drew attention to the beauty of the wood.
“I see a lot of things I like.” Sydney gave Lucas a coy look. “But I have some specific pieces in mind for the living room that would need to be custom-made.”
“I’d be happy to come and take a look at the space. You could show me what you have in mind.”
She cocked her head and smiled slowly.
Lucas realized she’d read too much into his words. He crossed his arms, making sure his left hand showed. “I’ll need to take measurements; then I can give you an estimate, and we’ll go from there. How does tomorrow at ten a.m. sound?”
“Perfect.” She gave him her address and phone number, then hitched her tiny purse on her shoulder. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”
He walked her to the door, but she stopped on the threshold.
“Oh, I hate to be a bother, but I’m looking for a fudge shop I’ve heard about. Aunt something . . . I have a terrible sweet tooth.” Her smile flirted.
“Aunt Leah’s Fudge—down on Straight Wharf.” He followed her out the door and pointed east. “If you follow Main Street, you’ll find yourself on the wharf. It’s on the left. You can’t miss it.”
His brother entered his line of vision, walking up Main Street, his stride slow and loose.
“Hey, Lucas.”
Lucas was about to introduce Sydney, but Brody stepped around him and opened the door. “Is Kate upstairs?”
The question caught Lucas off guard. “Sure.” He wondered what Brody wanted with Kate.
Lucas watched his brother until Sydney placed a hand on his arm.
The sound of feet thudding up the wood steps of her office pulled Kate’s attention from the letter. A glance at her watch told her it was too early for Lucas. They’d begun eating lunch together on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Strictly for appearances’ sake.
Sun-blond curls appeared first, followed by the lean frame of her new brother-in-law. He wore a pair of bright orange and blue Hawaiian-print trunks and a white T-shirt.
“Brody.” Kate folded the “Dear Dr. Kate” letter and set it on the desk next to the other letters she’d waded through. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
He stopped at the top of the stairs and stuffed his hands in his pockets, a move that reminded her of Lucas. “I should’ve called.”
“No, come in. Have a seat. I’m just reading through some letters.”
Brody surveyed her desk. “That’s a lot of letters.” He glanced around the room—what used to be the lobby of her practice. She’d moved her desk to the front so she could take advantage of the natural daylight that streamed though the windows.
“I haven’t been up here since Lucas renovated,” Brody said.
Kate appraised the room with fresh eyes. The shiny wood floor, the soothing green walls that set off the maple color of the wood trim. She’d found an area rug in shades of green, navy, and beige that tied the colors of the room together.
“He did a nice job,” she said. “He’s quite the carpenter, your brother.” Never mind that it had taken forever to get it done.
Brody sank into the waiting-room chair with a sigh. “I know.”
Kate wondered what had brought him here. She set her elbows on the swivel chair’s wooden arms and leaned back against the plush leather. Brody crossed his legs, propping his right ankle on his hairy knee. Gravity pulled at the heel of his worn flip-flop.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Kate teased.
“I was wondering if you’d help me with something.” His eyes darted around the room, settling nowhere.
“I’d be happy to help in any way I can.” Kate felt sorry for him in his awkwardness. “Is it a girl problem?” That she was accustomed to. People often sought her advice—not just in letters, but on the street sometimes.
“No, not girls. I got a handle on that.” His cocky smile lasted a short second. “It’s . . . school.” The word dropped like a fifty-pound bag of sand.
“Ah,” Kate said. “The switch in majors?”
“Yeah.” He shook the bangs from his eyes. “I can’t decide what I want to do. I mean, I’m three years into college and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.” He tucked in the corner of his mouth at his joke.
He was still young at twenty-one, but Kate understood his frustration. “What was your major when you entered college? University of Massachusetts, right?”
“Yeah. I started as an education major. That lasted for a year and a semester.”
“What made you decide on education?”
“I thought I could come back here and teach high school. Maybe middle school. I don’t know. I did well in school and I thought it would be fun to teach.”
“What did you change to?”
“Art.” He rolled his eyes. “I know—it’s like, what am I going to do with a career in art?”
“Are you good at it?” Kate watched his face, looking for some sign of passion.
“Sure, I guess. My professors thought I was.”
Outside the front window a truck braked, the squeal piercing the wall. “What made you change?”
“Does the term ‘starving artist’ mean anything to you? After a couple semesters, I realized how hard it would be to support a family with an art degree. Megan—she was my girlfriend at the time—thought I should switch to computer science.”
“Is that what your major is now?”
“Yeah. I like computers and everything. I get good grades, and I know it would be a good career, but . . .” He punctuated the sentence with a sigh.
Kate waited. She had yet to see him talk about anything that ignited a fire in his eyes.
“So now you’re thinking of architecture?”
Brody looked out the window. “It’s kind of in the art field, but I could make a decent living.”
“Let’s talk about things you like to do. Lucas said you play baseball for UMass?”
“I’m shortstop. But I’m not pro material, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I’m just trying to get a feel for the things you enjoy. What else? What do you do in your spare time?”
“I spend a lot of spare time at the beach. I surf a little. I wait tables at the Even Keel in the summer to supplement the money my parents give toward college. I’ve helped Lucas with construction, but I don’t have a knack for it like he does.”
Kate’s legs ached from sitting. She stood and crossed the room. “Any other jobs you’ve held or volunteer positions you’ve enjoyed?”
“I enjoy working, so I’ve liked all my jobs. I was a lifeguard at Cisco beach for a couple summers. When school is in session, I tutor a couple local middle schoolers for extra money. That’s rewarding. One of my students is a boy with a learning disability. His parents were really frazzled about his schoolwork. I tutored him last year starting after Christmas break, and his grades went from, like, Ds and Fs to Bs and Cs.”
“You must be quite the tutor.”
“Nah, Jared just needed some encouragement and help getting organized. He’s a bright kid—he just had trouble remembering his homework and focusing.” Brody lifted a shoulder. “He’s a huge Giants fan and I found ways of
relating that to his schoolwork.”
“Have you considered changing back to education?”
Brody tucked his chin, and his eyebrows hiked up. “Not really.”
“Why not?”
He looked away. “I don’t know.”
“You seem to like kids and know how to motivate them.”
“There’s not much money involved in teaching.”
“You get summers off . . .”
Lucas grinned. His even white teeth reminded her of Lucas’s. “Good point.”
The bright sunlight from the window beckoned Kate. “Well, it’s something to consider. I wouldn’t fret about changing gears with your major. This is the rest of your life you’re talking about, so it’s important to follow your passion. The main thing is finding out where your passions lie.”
“Too bad I can’t major in girls.”
Kate looked out over the street where tourists meandered down the brick sidewalks. A movement below caught her eye. Lucas stood in front of the shop with an auburn-haired woman. She wore a sleeveless ivory sweater and ivory slacks. The woman placed her hand on Lucas’s arm, letting it linger. Her head tilted toward Lucas like she would live or die by his next words.
“. . . give it some thought,” Brody was saying.
Kate peered though the old, wavy pane. “Who’s the woman outside? The one talking to Lucas?”
She heard Brody stand. “The leggy redhead? I don’t know her. They were talking when I got here.”
Kate felt a twinge of something unpleasant. It struck her as odd at first. She tried to rationalize it as common sense. After all, Lucas was wearing a wedding band, and the way Red was hanging on his arm was hardly appropriate. She glared down at the woman. Boundaries, lady. Have you heard of them?
Before she could help herself, Kate took a step toward the stairs with the thought of putting the woman in her place. Then she stopped. She imagined Lucas’s amused brow, quirking upward, his crooked smile as Kate staked her claim. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure. Besides, what did it matter if Red flirted with Lucas? It wasn’t as if Kate had feelings for him.
She was not jealous, and there was no way on earth she was going to let Lucas think she was.
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